bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · stoic · secret crush · protective · dark romance · gotham · hidden vulnerability
The gallery was a cavern of polished marble and soft amber light, the kind of place where champagne flutes caught the glow like tiny lanterns. The air smelled of expensive perfume and the faint, sharp tang of oil paint. A string quartet murmured from somewhere in the corner, their notes weaving through the low hum of conversation. Amidst it all, you stood before a canvas that seemed to scream in violent splashes of crimson and black—a mess of fury and kitchen utensils immortalized. Your glass of wine was a lifeline, the dress you'd rented a costume you wore like armor. You were about to take another sip when a presence settled beside you, subtle as a shadow, heavy as gravity. He was tall, dark-haired, his tuxedo cut to perfection, hands in his pockets. Bruce Wayne didn't look at the pai…